


Artificial Flowers

by burymeonpluto



Category: Kingdom Hearts
Genre: Aged-Up Character(s), Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Character Study, Dissociation, F/M, Gen, Relationship Study, Suburbia, Unreliable Narrator, can be read as fledgling vanikai if you want, established sokai, hair stylist, mostly a Kairi character study, no beta no rules, unhappy sokai
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-03-12
Updated: 2021-03-12
Packaged: 2021-03-20 13:41:46
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 9,663
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/30005766
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/burymeonpluto/pseuds/burymeonpluto
Summary: Kairi can't complain about her life. She has everything she ever wanted: a big house; her childhood sweetheart; and even a low-stress job.So, why is she not happy?
Relationships: Kairi & Sora (Kingdom Hearts), Kairi & Vanitas (Kingdom Hearts)
Comments: 3
Kudos: 6





	Artificial Flowers

  
  
Kairi knows by the way Sora is zipping up his coat that he won’t be home tonight. She leans against the kitchen counter, holding her glass of champagne with two dainty manicured fingers, and smiles.  
  
“ _What are_ _we_ _celebrating?”_ he’d asked when she pulled it from the grocery bag.  
  
 _“Finding champagne,”_ she’d answered, and he laughed and let it go.  
  
Now he grins from across the room and it’s all teeth. “I’ll be back.”  
  
“Have fun.”  
  
He nods and waves, and Kairi has another sip of sweet champagne. The sound of the door clicking shut is as familiar as the ticking of a clock. The kitchen is bright and empty and spotless. Condensation from the champagne bottle silently drips onto the countertop in a glossy ring. Kairi watches a bead of moisture creep down the side of the glass. She finishes her flute and leaves it on the counter. It’s no fun drinking champagne alone.  
  
She bites her lip and tastes the subtle vanilla tang of lip gloss. It’s not unusual for Sora to go and train with Riku for a while. They’re old friends, after all. Best friends. Teammates. But she thought, somewhere in-between senior prom and her grandmother _conveniently_ finding her old wedding dress in the attic, Sora would gravitate to her side. It would be _easier_. They would be the couple everyone always said they would be. Perfect and shiny and stupidly in love.  
  
Kairi swallows the pain clenching around her throat. It’s just jealousy. Riku and Sora will always be the best of friends. She wouldn’t change that. She’d never wish that upon them. She only wishes this ugliness would leave her heart already. Her pretty pink painted nails dig into the countertop.  
  
It’s nothing, really. She’s just bored.

–

Sora is out at another late practice when Xion calls and invites them to Naminé’s art show. Kairi checks her calendar, even though she already knows Sora will be out of town the whole weekend for a fencing tournament. As for herself and her regular 9-to-5, she has no plans at all. Her copy writing job isn’t flexible enough for her to follow Sora to all of his away matches, anyway.  
  
An art show sounds like the perfect distraction. Kairi was going to take a long bath and maybe treat herself to a face mask, so s he’ ll take Xion and Naminé over a boring night alone any time .  
  
Kairi doesn’t bother telling Sora about the show. It would only make him feel guilty for being too busy with his own work.  
  
So Kairi comes home from the office, puts on something nice, and meets Xion and Naminé downtown at the exhibition hall. She’s right on time, and judging by their black and white cocktail dresses, her semi-formal hunch was right on the mark. They smile and wave at her like always, ignoring any distance or time.

Kairi joins them and is immediately distracted by Naminé’s hair. It’s done in an immaculate french braid that trails over her shoulder. There are several tiny stripes of bright colors woven throughout the braid as well. Greens and blues and pinks and purples… It almost looks like candy or fruity sticks of gum. It’s gorgeous. Kairi can’t stop gawking at it. “Naminé, your hair is so pretty! How did you do it?”  
  
Her smile is bashful as she tucks a stray flyaway behind her ear. “It wasn’t me at all. Xion’s cousin is a hairdresser, so we called in a favor.”  
  
“It looks amazing on you!”  
  
“Thank you so much.”  
  
Xion gently shakes Naminé’s arm. “See? I told you! It’s perfect.”  
  
“But you always say that,” she grins.  
  
“Yeah, well…” Xion stumbles over that one. She squeezes Naminé’s hand reassuringly instead. Looks like they’re as cute as ever. They met in college and haven’t changed since. They’re still hopelessly crazy about each other.  
  
A staff member comes up and beckons Naminé to the front. The artists’ presentations are about to start. Naminé says a quiet farewell and scurries off to join the others.  
  
Xion glances at her phone impatiently, but by Kairi’s clock there’s still ten minutes before the exhibition is scheduled to begin. Her eyes go back towards the entrance, watching the people filing in at the last moment. Kairi watches too, as they chat about nothing in particular. Merely catching up. ‘ _Sora’s doing fine’_ and ‘ _the succulent in the kitchen died’_ and ‘ _no,_ _there’s_ _still no date for the wedding_.’

Then Xion straightens up, just as a surly-looking guy in all black emerges from the crowd. He’s wearing heavy motorcycle boots and a tight-fitting t-shirt that can’t quite cover the angular tattoo on his bicep. It looks like he has more holes pierced through his ears than Kairi does, but the most surprising thing is that his hair is in the same style as Sora’s. At least, it’s what Sora has always tried to achieve. This guy’s style is wild but deliberate. It’s cleaner, with a bit of an undercut, and black as night. What’s a guy like him doing here?  
  
“There you are, slowpoke!” Xion waves.  
  
Kairi does a double-take. “You know him?”  
  
The strange guy marches up to them and huffs. “I told you I was busy.”  
  
“Details, details…” Xion dismisses. “Kairi, this is my cousin Vani.”  
  
“It’s Vanitas,” he corrects with a scowl.  
  
Kairi is tripping over every part of this conversation. “Your cousin? The hairdresser?”  
  
“The same!” Xion smiles, and playfully swats Vanitas’s arm. “He’s not as scary as he looks.”  
  
Vanitas snorts. “I’m _exactly_ as scary as I look.”  
  
“He huffed and puffed the whole time he was working on Naminé, but he does some great work.”  
  
“I believe it,” Kairi nods.  
  
“You should go to his salon sometime. It’ll change your life.”  
  
“Don’t bother,” he mutters with a glare in Kairi’s direction. “I’m fully booked.”  
  
What’s with that look? Kairi wasn’t actually planning on making an appointment, but now she has an urge to. Out of nothing but spite. “That’s alright. I don’t need it.”  
  
Vanitas looks like he wants to say something, but he keeps his mouth shut. What a weird guy.  
  
But Kairi doesn’t have a chance to think about it. It’s almost time for Naminé’s presentation. The host is already calling for everyone’s attention. Xion grabs Kairi’s wrist and starts pushing her way towards the front. Vanitas follows a few steps behind, but ever-present. He stands with them at the front of the crowd as Naminé introduces her art pieces one by one.  
  
Xion is almost trembling as she watches Naminé. Her eyes are full of stars and awe and wonder, as if she were the only person in the room. It’s so incredibly sweet. Xion doesn’t have to say or do anything, and everyone knows she adores Naminé with her entire heart. It’s quiet, but clear.  
  
And once she’s finished presenting, Naminé is swarmed by people. She’s practically surrounded by inquisitive students, curious crowd-members, and congratulatory peers. Looks like it’ll be a while before Kairi and the others can reach her. Xion deflates a bit, but doesn’t complain. She must be used to it by now. Vanitas appears unaffected. Honestly, Kairi almost forgot he was here. She decides to pass the time by mulling over Naminé’s pieces again, and ends up standing before her favorite one: the cross-section of a beautiful flower depicted in ash and bones. Kairi doesn’t know enough about paintings to put it into words, but she definitely likes this one best.  
  
“Oh! Kairi look at these!” Xion waves and points excitedly to the table of refreshments, where there’s an array of colorful and pristine pastries. Platters full of fruits and syrup and chocolate and edible flowers. “They really went all-out… You want one?”  
  
“Sure.”  
  
“Chocolate or fruit?”  
  
“Fruit, please.”  
  
“Oh, right. Sorry,” Xion shakes her head. “You’re the one who doesn’t like chocolate. I forgot.”  
  
Kairi laughs. “It’s okay.”  
  
But Vanitas is giving her another weird look. “Don’t like chocolate?”  
  
Is it really that strange? “It’s not that I _hate_ it…” she defends. “I’ve just always preferred other flavors.”  
  
He snags a chocolate pastry from the platter, complete with the syrup drizzle and shavings of white mocha on top. “That doesn’t sound right.”  
  
“Opinions can’t be _right_.”  
  
“Well, that one’s definitely wrong.”  
  
Xion hands Kairi her pastry with a sigh. Looks like she’s also chosen the chocolate option. “Now, now…”  
  
Kairi narrows her eyes anyway. “Oh, you just like picking fights, don’t you?”  
  
“Sowing discord is his only hobby,” Xion adds.  
  
Vanitas rolls his eyes, but effectively shuts up by stuffing the pastry into his mouth. Kairi isn’t sure she likes him very much, or maybe she’s just annoyed. But when Naminé returns to the group by running up and hugging his waist, Kairi is floored.  
  
“You made it!” Naminé laughs.  
  
Vanitas doesn’t return the hug. He tenses up and awkwardly pats her back. “Yeah, yeah…”  
  
“Thank you again for this,” she gestures to the hairstyle Kairi adores so much. “I hope you liked my section of the show.”  
  
“It was good,” he mumbles. So not even Vanitas can be rude to Naminé… Well, if he was, Xion would probably pound him into dust. It’s for the best.  
  
It’s not much longer before the venue starts to close up for the night, and the group makes their way outside. The nighttime air is nice and refreshing. Kairi takes a deep breath. She could stay here forever: downtown on a Friday night, dressed in nice clothes and chatting excitedly with her friends. She hasn’t had fun like this in a long time.

Vanitas wastes no time finding an excuse to leave. He keeps inching farther and farther away from their circle, while Xion and Naminé keep inching after him in turn. Kairi follows along simply by proxy. Finally, he clearly announces that he’s leaving and steps to a cluster of public parking. Unsurprisingly, Xion and Naminé follow him anyway.  
  
Kairi fully expects him to saunter away towards a motorcycle. Something loud and harsh and befitting his aura. The vehicle he stands before is more of a motorized scooter. It’s vintage-looking, for sure, but it’s just a moped. Kairi has to bite down on her laugh.  
  
Xion cackles into her hand. “You’re still driving that old thing?”  
  
“My bike is in the shop,” he counters instantly.  
  
“It’s still in the shop because you never bought it, right?”  
  
He just shrugs: “Believe what you want.” He doesn’t even put up a fight. This must be a regular jab from Xion, like how sh e’s always teas ing Kairi about her ‘imaginary wedding date.’ Vanitas pulls the helmet over his head. It’s full-faced and has a visor as reflective as a dark mirror, like it could be made of nothing but metal and glass. There’s no way that thing is up to safety regulations. He fires up the engine and it sputters to life like a higher-pitched, compact motorcycle.  
  
“G’night, Vani!”

“Drive safe.”  
  
Kairi waves: “It was nice to meet you.”  
  
He acts like he doesn’t hear them, or maybe he’s making a face they can’t see through the helmet, and drives off.  
  
Xion shakes her head again. “Don’t worry about him. He takes a while to warm up.”  
  
“It’s no big deal.”  
  
“I can’t believe I didn’t introduce you two sooner. I bet you could be good friends.”  
  
Kairi and Vanitas? She almost chokes. What could she possibly have in common with someone like him? “You think so?”  
  
“I do,” she says, and even Naminé nods in agreement. “Vani likes people who fight back. He’s such a weirdo… but he’s harmless.”  
  
Kairi certainly wasn’t going to put up with his instigating, even if it didn’t really matter. “I see.”  
  
“So, I have a plan!” A sly grin appears on Xion’s face, which is never a good sign. “I have an appointment with Vani in two weeks, but I’m going to give it to you instead.”  
  
“What? Me? Are you sure?”  
  
She shrugs. “It’s just a trim. Besides, we’ve got to figure out what you’re going to do for your imaginary wedding _somehow_.”  
  
There it is. Kairi laughs. “Oh, c’mon…”  
  
“It’ll be a nice change of pace,” Naminé suggests to soften the blow.  
  
“Right!” Xion nods like that was her intention all along. Kairi doesn’t buy it for a second. “And when you walk in you have to say: ‘Surprise, Jerkface’!”

“Is that a requirement?” Kairi giggles.  
  
“ _Definitely_.”

-

Kairi walks into the lobby of the salon at the scheduled time and finds Vanitas waiting by the entrance. It looks like the “salon” is actually a hub with individual rooms rented out to different stylists. That explains the suite number at the end of the address Xion sent over.  
  
Vanitas sends her a cool glare from over his phone. “I knew the substitute had to be _you_.”  
  
She puts on her best grin. “Xion says: Surprise Jerkface!”  
  
He laughs through his nose. “Typical.”  
  
“Sorry,” Kairi snickers. “You know she likes teasing.”  
  
“Yeah…” He leans off the wall with an aggravated sigh, and beckons her down the hall. “She’s always looking for new ways to be annoying.”  
  
Kairi follows Vanitas to his rented room, and is stunned to find it so warm and overflowing with life. There are lush green plants spilling over their painted ceramic containers along the windowsill. Hanging ferns and fronds that sway in the gentle breeze of the old, yellowed ceiling fan. The large window on the far wall overlooks what appears to be an abandoned lot, but the way the overgrowth has wormed its way into the brick walls and wrought iron gates makes it look so deliberate. There are trinkets and posters and some of Naminé’s paintings decorating the walls, until the room is cluttered but cozy. Kairi pays special attention to the stainless steel tools atop the work station, and the well-worn, vintage chair that sits before it. The mustard yellow vinyl—or is it leather—is beginning to crack, but in a way that makes it an antique. It hasn’t fallen apart yet. It’s old and well taken care of. Kairi wonders if everything in this room has a story behind it. Probably so.  
  
It’s nothing like Kairi’s bright and empty house, that’s for sure. All whites and greys and uninspired… Sterile halls with nothing decorating them at all. Every trinket and photo is there to fill up the empty space, with no story or sentimental value whatsoever. If they all burned up tomorrow, Kairi can’t say she would care.  
  
The only things she’d miss are probably the ones she keeps stashed away. The old Polaroids of her and Sora that she has in a shoe box in the closet. The paintings Naminé gave her that are kept in the bedroom—too personal and odd for the main rooms of the house. Journals full of pages of writing she’s kept since middle school that no one but her has ever seen.  
  
“Quit gawking and sit down. I don’t have all day,” Vanitas suddenly mutters and crosses his arms. He’s got the sleeves of his t-shirt rolled up, and Kairi wonders if he does it because they actually get in the way, or because he thinks it looks cool. The tattoo on his bicep is certainly on full display. A weird, pointed shape that almost looks like a heart…  
  
But it’s not her place to ask. She’s not even here of her own volition, after all. So she nods and mumbles an apology before taking her place in the stylist’s chair. Vanitas watches her with the sharpest stare. Her fingers tighten nervously over her handbag. “How… um, how is your day going?”  
  
Vanitas scoffs. “Don’t ask something you don’t mean.”  
  
She blinks at him through the reflection in the mirror. “It’s just a polite question to ask.”  
  
“It’s pleasantries. I don’t have time for it.” His boot hits the lever beneath the chair, and Kairi slowly rises up. “So, what do you want?”  
  
“I… I’m not sure, honestly. I’ve thought about it, but…”  
  
He rolls his eyes. “I should’ve guessed, since Xion was the one to actually book the appointment.”  
  
“She only did it to give me a push,” Kairi protests. “I haven’t really… changed my hairstyle in a long time.”  
  
“How long we talkin’?”  
  
“High school.”  
  
“Holy shit,” he laughs, but it’s sharp and insulting. “You’re way overdue.”  
  
“I know,” she bites back.  
  
“And you still don’t know what you want?”  
  
“I was hoping… you could help me with that.”  
  
Vanitas huffs and gives her another hard stare. “Do you make a habit of relying on people to do everything for you?”  
  
“Of course not!”  
  
“Not a very convincing argument.”  
  
“I’m open to suggestions, is all I’m saying. _You’re_ the expert. I’m… not much of anything.” He stares at her again, bright gold eyes searching all over her face. The eye contact makes her heart race. She can’t maintain it, and she drops her gaze back down into her lap. Her hands are already fiddling with the rhinestones on her purse.  
  
Eventually, Vanitas sighs and throws the cutting cape around her neck. “I’ll see what I can do.”  
  
Kairi straightens up. “Thank you.”  
  
He huffs and plucks a spray bottle from the shelf, misting her hair with plenty of water. He only has to study her for another minute before he’s pulling a pair of all-black shears from their sheath. He starts by trimming and shaping her ends. Kairi can’t tell what he’s planning, and it feels rude to stare. Even if it’s through the mirror.  
  
Most of the pictures on the back wall are concert posters and photographs of various landscapes. Blues, metal… snowy mountains, and red deserts… It’s a variety of things, alongside three paintings that are clearly from Naminé. There’s one painting in particular that has to be one of Naminé’s older pieces. It depicts a dark figure that is definitely Vanitas alongside another figure with a mess of spiky blonde hair. Knowing Naminé’s style, Kairi can only wonder who the blonde figure is, or what significance the painting holds for Vanitas. It’s none of her business, though. She feels embarrassed for even wondering.  
  
And it’s not like Vanitas would actually answer her if she asked, anyway.  
  
“Do you want to keep the bangs?” he suddenly asks.  
  
Kairi studies her reflection for a moment. The hair in question has been pulled back with a clamp to keep it out of the way. She’s forgotten what she looks like without them. “I don’t have to keep them.”  
  
Vanitas pulls a hand down his face. “C’mon, you gotta give me _something_.”  
  
He’s right. That’s such a non-answer. She grits her teeth and stares into the mirror. She’s had this exact hairstyle for years now. The bangs are just an addition to the style she sported as a teenager, not counting the year she let her hair grow out—and Riku had done the same—so at the very least, she should be able to let them go. “No more bangs,” she says with purpose, and Vanitas straightens up.  
  
“Alright, then, I’ll leave them alone.” He goes back to feathering her ends with a razor. The blade is so sharp it doesn’t even tug. “You’ll be in the awkward transition phase for a few weeks, but it’s nothing a little product can’t fix.”  
  
“Seems kinda high maintenance.”  
  
“If it’s worth anything, it takes work. You won’t get anything worthwhile just treading water.”  
  
That’s surprisingly sage advice from someone like Vanitas. “Hm… I guess you’re right.”  
  
“I’m definitely right,” he huffs.  
  
She laughs a bit. Maybe Xion was right to push her. It’s time for a change; to work for something better. Something different.

-

“Your hair is different,” Sora remarks as Kairi enters the kitchen.  
  
She didn’t expect him to notice. Why does that make her chest hurt? “Yeah, I just got it done.”  
  
“It looks nice.”  
  
“Thanks.” She tucks a strand behind her ear. She’s not used to the style yet. “It’s not too much?”  
  
“No way,” he shakes his head. “It looks good on you.”  
  
She didn’t expect him to like it, either. It’s been so long since she changed her hairstyle, she thought Sora would care a little more about it.  
  
No, that’s not fair to him. Kairi pushes the ugliness back down. He _does_ care. He likes it. He just said as much. It’s not as big of a reaction as she was expecting, is all. When Riku first had his hair cut short, Sora was leaping across the room to get a better look.  
  
 _Stop it_ . She’s awful. When did she turn so ugly?  
  
“You alright, Kairi?” Sora suddenly asks.  
  
She jerks a bit. “Huh? Yeah! Yeah… I’m fine. It’s just a little headache.”  
  
“You sure? Do you want some aspirin?”  
  
“No, it’s alright.” She waves her hands around. He cares so much. Why is she like this? Jealousy is a sickness. So she smiles, “I’ll be okay.”  
  
Sora accepts her facade, and lets it go.

–

A few weeks later, Sora tries to kiss her in the grocery store, and Kairi has to stop herself from shoving him through the freezer doors. She rubs the chill from her arms. “C’mon, Sora… not in public…” Her eyes dart around, watching all the people who couldn’t care less.

Sora bites his cheek. “Sorry, I just… We haven’t seen each other for a while, so…”  
  
Kairi’s stomach is in knots. “I know. I’m sorry.” She reaches over and grabs his hand, and tries her best to smile. “You just surprised me, is all.”  
  
He nods, but he clearly doesn’t believe her. He doesn’t try to kiss her again—not even when they get home. He spends the rest of the shopping trip holding her hand like he’s chained to it.

–

The kitchen needs to be cleaned. There are pots and pans still sitting in the sink from last night, where Sora had left them to “ _soak_.” She knew they’d be left to fend for themselves as soon as he said it.

It’s not that big of a deal, though. Kairi is sure she’s done the same thing.  
  
She stirs some cream into her coffee and ignores it. Sora is still talking about… she’s lost track of what. Painted red nails tap along the side of the ceramic mug in time to Sora’s speech pattern. She lays the dirtied spoon into the sink with the others.

Once Sora reaches the end of his story—where he got his hand stuck in a vending machine while off someplace Kairi has never heard of before—she presents her own news: “Nami and Xion invited us out Saturday night.”  
  
Sora grits his teeth like he always does: “Oh, sorry… I—we have a match.”  
  
“Oh.”  
  
“You know they always run over. That’s why they always reserve the last slot of the day: so the venue can’t kick us out for someone else!” he weakly chuckles. Some vain attempt at levity that Kairi doesn’t acknowledge.  
  
“It’s fine. I’m sure they’ll understand.”  
  
“Sorry… I’ll see if I can duck out early and meet you guys there. Okay? We’ll come home together.”  
  
Kairi wonders if it’s worth holding her breath. “Sure.”

–

Early Saturday finds Kairi in the salon. Vanitas is working to give her a nice up-do with blended, lightened ends. She wanted to look nice for her night out with Xion and Naminé, and her hair is finally long enough for something interesting.  
  
“They invited Sora too, but he’s busy with work.”  
  
Vanitas snorts. “That sounds familiar.”  
  
“Yeah, there’s always some excuse…” she sighs without realizing.  
  
His face turns thoughtful as he paints the lightener across a section of hair. He wraps the ends in foil and moves on to the next. “You think he’s off fooling around with someone else?” he suddenly asks.  
  
“Of course not!” Kairi sputters. No, it’s not like that. Sora would never _cheat—_ not even emotionally. He’s just busy.

Besides, it must be a relief to get out of the house. He doesn’t have to worry about anything when he’s in a match, or off training with Riku. He’s unchallenged there.  
  
She glances through the mirror at Vanitas. Yeah, that’s gotta be it. After all, she’s here right now.  
  
Vanitas catches her staring and scowls. “What?”  
  
Maybe unchallenged is the wrong word for it, though. Vanitas is nothing but a challenge. “Nothing.” He looks like he doesn’t believe her, but doesn’t push it. Like he has a choice. Kairi’s life is under enough scrutiny. From her friends, her family, her neighbors… she doesn’t need to add her hairdresser to the list. Her fists clench beneath the cutting cape. “Don’t look at me like that.”  
  
He laughs through his nose. “Then stop being such a bad liar.”  
  
“I’m not lying.”  
  
Vanitas sends her a look through the mirror and cocks his hip. “What did I just say? If you’re going to sit there and contemplate your miserable life, just say so. Don’t lie to me.” Kairi is gobsmacked. He goes back to painting lightener onto the ends of her hair. “That depressing look of yours pisses me off.”  
  
“Well I’m _so_ sorry about that,” she bites. “You’re the one accusing my fianc é of being unfaithful.”  
  
“I didn’t accuse him of shit. I asked if _you_ thought so. And clearly, you do.”  
  
“I do not!”  
  
“Methinks the lady doth protest too much,” he scoffs.  
  
“Sora would never cheat. He’s too kind for that.” As opposed to her, who is the cruelest girl on earth. She’s jealous of anyone who gets Sora’s attention, and it’s ugly. If he was actually cheating on her , she’d have a better reason for being so awful.  
  
Vanitas huffs in the silence. “You sound sure of that, at least.”  
  
“I am. I’m certain.”  
  
He closes the last section of foil and pulls off his gloves. “Then act like it.”  
  
There’s no reason for her to feel like this, but it just won’t go away.

–

Kairi knew that Naminé and Xion wouldn’t allow her to be a third-wheel, but she really didn’t expect them to drag _Vanitas_ out to prevent it, either . He looks bored, or maybe just tired, as he’s hunched over the table with a half-finished cocktail in front of him.  
  
Xion waves as Kairi trots over. “Kairi! You made it!” She and Naminé are sitting on the same side of the booth, and dressed nicely, but comfortably.  
  
Kairi suddenly wonders if the heels she’s wearing are too much. But it’s not like she has any other opportunities to wear them… She never goes out. Maybe it’s okay. She needed an outfit to match the style Vanitas crafted for her earlier.

She sits down beside him with a weak smile. He could try to not look so miserable, at least. “I didn’t expect to see you here.”

“I didn’t expect to _be_ here,” he answers.

Xion laughs into her drink. “Nami twisted his arm.”  
  
“You both needed a break,” Naminé nods sagely.

“I could’ve done that at home,” Vanitas huffs.  
  
A break? Kairi wonders what she could need a break from, but it _is_ true that she’s done nothing but work and run errands since the last time they all went out. When was that…? Naminé’s art exhibition? “But why us?”  
  
“Because you’re both such homebodies,” Xion complains. “If we didn’t invite you out, you’d never leave the house!”  
  
Kairi rolls her eyes. “Yeah, right.” But she doesn’t deny it. She notices that Vanitas doesn’t either.

“I also know that out of everyone, Vani definitely didn’t have any plans tonight.”  
  
“I did have plans,” he bites. “Saying home.”  
  
“This is why you don’t have any friends!”

Kairi laughs into her hands. Xion is as ruthless as always. But Kairi would have guessed Vanitas was anything but a homebody, judging from all the music and travel posters he has displayed in the salon. Could they just be souvenirs, gifts, or remnants of someone else? There’s no telling.

Vanitas doesn’t take Xion’s bait, though. He really is used to her jabs. He only rolls his eyes and has a slow drink of his cocktail.

That’s not a bad idea, actually. Kairi joins the others and orders a drink for herself. The food and alcohol do their job oiling the conversation, and time starts to slip away.

The night is in full-swing and most of them are clearly feeling their drinks when a buzzing comes from the purse in Kairi’s lap. It must be her phone. She fishes it out and finds a single text message from Sora:  
  
‘Hey! Sorry! We got delayed… Won’t be home til tomorrow ♥’  
  
The little heart is nothing but punctuation. Kairi sighs into the phone. There goes her ride home. She should’ve known better than to rely on Sora being home on time. She’d be angry with him, but it’s not like she _actually_ told him that she was counting on him to give her a ride. She was just hoping it would work out. Figures.  
  
It’ll be okay. She’ll worry about it later. She slips the phone back into her clutch and forgets about it.  
  
By the end of the night, Kairi is slowly teetering down the sidewalk and cursing her decision to wear heels of any height. There’s no public transportation into her neighborhood. Maybe she could hail a cab or download one of those apps… Or, she could just cave and admit to Naminé and Xion that she was stood up by her own fiancé like usual—  
  
“Where are you going?” Vanitas suddenly asks. His tone is harsh, as always.  
  
Kairi looks over her shoulder at him. His moped is parked by the sidewalk, and he’s already wearing his helmet. The visor is lifted so he can send her that pointed stare. How his hairstyle ever survives being crammed in there, Kairi may never know. “I’m going home. Where else?”  
  
He crosses his arms. “You’re walking?”  
  
“My ride… has been delayed.”  
  
Vanitas stares at her like he’s got a headache. She tilts her head. What’s his problem? “I’ll give you a ride,” he mutters, and rummages through the vehicle’s seat compartment.  
  
That is the absolute last thing she ever expected him to say. “Huh? Really?”  
  
“Here.” He tosses another helmet at her that she barely catches. “You’re gonna need that.”  
  
Kairi does not like the implication of that. Although, she guesses it _is_ unlawful to ride without one…  
  
Vanitas frowns. “Stop gawking and put it on before I change my mind.”  
  
And after all the trouble he went through for this pretty up-do, too… It feels like a shame. She sighs and squeezes the helmet over her head. It’s his idea, after all. And it’s not like Sora will be home to appreciate it, either.  
  
Vanitas takes his place behind the handlebars and flicks the kickstand with the heel of his boot. “C’mon, then.”  
  
“Coming, coming…” she grumbles, but Vanitas holds up his hand before she can take the rear seat. “What is it?”  
  
“You’re hopeless.” He reaches up to her face, and Kairi holds her breath. He tugs on the straps of her helmet and fastens it, nice and secure beneath her chin. “There. You’re welcome.”  
  
She purses her lips. “Thanks.” She tries to say it with as much venom as she can muster.  
  
Vanitas laughs through his nose. It doesn’t bother him at all.  
  
Kairi settles behind him, sidesaddle on the seat. It’s a bit uncomfortable, but not as bad as she imagined. The engine sputters to life. It’s certainly not the roar of a motorcycle, no matter how much Vanitas pretends. It doesn’t matter how much leather he wears or how many piercings he gets, a moped is still a moped. Kairi stifles her giggle, but she can’t keep the grin from overcoming her face.  
  
He tells her to hang on, and her fingers curl into the sides of his jacket. When he pulls on the throttle and peals out onto the street, she’s surprised at the speed, and leans against his back. It’s strange. He’s awful, but not even Vanitas can bear to watch her walk home alone. Several miles. In the dark. Well, maybe she’s giving him too much credit. It’s only logical for him to do this, right? The cool night air is refreshing against her face.  
  
They’re coming up on Kairi’s neighborhood already. She directs him towards the familiar cul-de-sac. “Careful! There’s a speed bump!” She shouts over the wind noise.  
  
Vanitas hits the bump with the engine wide open, so fast that Kairi swears they go airborne. She shrieks and clings tighter to his back. Her arms are fiercely cinched around his waist now. “You jerk!” She has no idea if he can hear her.  
  
But judging from the slight bouncing of his shoulders, he definitely heard it.  
  
They screech to a halt at the next intersection, and Kairi lays her fist into his back. “Maniac.”  
  
Vanitas sends her the smuggest grin from over his shoulder.  
  
God, he’s the absolute worst. She should’ve known better than to agree to this.  
  
“Which way?”  
  
“Left,” she spits, and hangs on for dear life.  
  
They arrive at the darkened house a moment later. Even the porch light is off, and Kairi realizes just how much she was relying on Sora arriving home as planned. But she’s not surprised. This isn’t the first time it’s happened. It’s not even the fifth.  
  
Vanitas parks the moped in the driveway. The neighborhood is quiet. Not even the dogs bark around here. They’re afraid of disturbing the peace. Vanitas snorts as he looks up at the house. “How cozy.”  
  
Kairi’s perfectly modern, minimalist house is no such thing. But still. “Just because you gave me a ride doesn’t mean you can insult me.”  
  
He holds up his hands. “You’re awfully defensive. It’s just a house.”  
  
Yes, but it’s _her_ house. She sighs and pulls off the helmet. “Thanks for the ride,” she mutters out of nothing but obligation.  
  
“Don’t mention it,” and he sounds like he means that literally.  
  
Kairi climbs off of the moped, and the black windows of the empty house stare back at her. Vanitas stands so he can return the spare helmet to the seat compartment. Kairi’s suburban programming takes over. “Would you like to stay for coffee?”  
  
He laughs in her face. “No thanks.”  
  
“I don’t know why I bothered to ask,” she grumbles.  
  
“Me either.”  
  
Maybe she does know. The thought of returning to an empty house so early on a Saturday night is awfully boring, and at the very least Vanitas is good conversation. But there’s no helping it. She sighs and digs through her purse for the house key. “Goodnight, Vanitas.”  
  
“Don’t sound so torn up over it.”  
  
“Huh?”  
  
He just shakes his head and sits back on the scooter. “It’s nothing.” Kairi doesn’t know what to say. He doesn’t even wait for her to get inside before rolling away down the street.  
  
Her stomach is in knots, but she has no idea why. She steps inside the empty house and pulls down her ruined hair; scrubs off her makeup and goes to bed alone.

–

The oven timer beeps just as Kairi is scooping the last of the vegetables into a serving bowl. Perfect timing. She grabs a nearby kitchen towel and reaches in the oven, but the cloth is too thin. The heat from the metal slips right through the fabric and scorches her fingers. She jumps back with a shriek, waving her hand around like a maniac; like she could shake the burn out of it. She tries darting over to the sink instead.  
  
She lets the cool water run over her fingers and sighs. That’s better… This is the last time she tries making beef wellington from scratch. The puff pastry isn’t worth all the trouble. She should’ve just bought it in pre-made sheets.  
  
No, wait. That’s not right. Remember: If it’s worth anything, it takes work. She just has to try a little harder. Then, everything will be perfect again. Right now, she’d settle for an edible dinner. At least the vegetables turned out right. And even if the puff pastry cracked a little in the oven, it should still taste fine. It’ll be okay.  
  
It’s not that bad of a burn, either. She dries her hands on her apron and lifts the pan from the oven—with actual oven mitts this time.  
  
And then Sora comes home with a box of fancy chocolates and a reservation at le Grand Bistrot.  
  
“I wanted to surprise you,” he says as he hands over the chocolates. “Happy Anniversary.”  
  
Kairi accepts the gift with a wobbly smile. “Thank you, Sora. I—” she tries to laugh, “I wanted to surprise you, too, so… I did all this.” She gestures to the meal she’s carefully laid out on the dinning table. She even used the nice serving bowls and platters, and brought out the special china they only get to use on holidays. “I made it all from scratch.”  
  
“Oh… That’s…” he rubs the back of his neck like he always does when he’s uneasy. “That’s kinda funny, actually. It’s like that old story.”  
  
Kairi doesn’t think so. “Yeah!”  
  
“Sorry. I didn’t expect you to go through all of this trouble. We can cancel the reservation.” He’s frowning. He doesn’t want to stay in. He probably had so much planned. Maybe some kind of grand, public gesture like he always does.  
  
Kairi laughs, but her chest constricts like she could cry. “No, it’s alright! I can put all this away—we can have it later. We don’t want to waste the reservation. They’re practically impossible to get.”  
  
“If you’re sure,” he answers with that half-smile.  
  
She unknots her apron and throws it over the counter. Looks like she still managed to get something on her dress. “Just let me change, and we’ll go.”  
  
“Do you want me to pack up the food?”  
  
“It’s fine! I’ll deal with it later.” She retreats back up the stairs. Her throat hurts. “It’s too hot to pack, anyway.” It only takes a few minutes for her to slip into a nicer dress and touch up her makeup. She and Sora leave the homemade dinner on the table. The stove is still warm.  
  
Their glasses clink together, filled with sweet red wine, and Kairi wants nothing more than to crawl into bed and never come out.  
  
She really is the worst.

-

She knocks four times, and softer than she’d like.  
  
Vanitas opens the door to the salon with that same annoyed scowl on his face. “Why’re you knocking? It’s unlocked.”  
  
Kairi doesn’t know. It just seemed like the right thing to do. She’s coming here unannounced, after all. “I just… um… Can I come in? I need to talk to you.”  
  
He huffs and crosses his arms. “Do you have an appointment? You know I’m fully booked.”  
  
“I don’t need an appointment, just a minute.” He doesn’t move. His stare is sharp and she still can’t meet it head-on. Her gaze hangs low between them. “Please?”  
  
He’s quiet for a long time. He shifts his weight and stares her down, and then lets out a begrudging sigh: “Make it quick. I have another client coming in thirty minutes.”  
  
Kairi’s fists clench tight. She can’t even let herself be glad. “Thank you.”  
  
“Hurry up.” Vanitas stands aside to let her pass through the door. She scurries by and into the familiar salon, with its warm colors and lush potted plants. It smells like hair spray and disinfectant and soil, and it’s a soothing balm across her chest. Vanitas pulls his metal stool from the corner and sits in it backwards. “What is it?”  
  
Kairi takes her time sitting in the yellow salon chair. She doesn’t know where to begin. She spins to face Vanitas and his impatient stare. “I wanted to ask you something.”  
  
“I’m listening.”  
  
No. This is too much, after all. She can’t look at him. His eyes are too focused. They’ll see right through her like they always do. She looks down at her hands in her lap: nervously twirling the engagement ring around her finger. “Do you think… Well… Am I… a good person?”  
  
“What?” he snaps. “What kind of stupid question is that?”  
  
“Do you think I’m the worst girl in the world? That I don’t deserve… the things I have?”  
  
Vanitas slowly leans back. “What are you talking about?”  
  
“I’m wondering… maybe my life feels so empty because I’m not grateful. It’s because I don’t love them enough… I’m not trying hard enough. That’s why everything feels wrong.”  
  
“No. Your life is just boring,” he counters. “You’ve got a big empty house and a fiancé who’s always somewhere else.”  
  
“Not always,” Kairi murmurs.  
  
He laughs through his nose. She doesn’t have to look at him to know that he just rolled his eyes. “He spends all of his time at _work_ , right? Does he even know you?”  
  
“He works really hard. And Riku, too. They’re chasing a dream they’ve had for years… I’m just jealous because I’m not a part of it.”  
  
“You think so?”  
  
“Sora and I… we don’t have anything like that. There’s nothing we both want so badly that nothing else matters.” She shakes her head. Jealousy stings like a knife. She wishes she could get rid of it already! “I know you don’t care, but… you _are_ a good listener, and you always tell me when I’m being stupid…”  
  
“You’re being stupid,” he answers immediately.  
  
“Yeah…”  
  
“But not for the reasons you think. It’s because you’re so sure everything is your fault.”  
  
“Huh?” She finally looks up at him. Those eyes aren’t as sharp as they were before, but just a firm.  
  
“I don’t have the time to sugarcoat it for you. So enough with the pageantry,” Vanitas mutters.  
  
Kairi narrows her eyes. “What do you mean?”  
  
“Jealousy-this and boredom-that,” he waves a hand. “Just say you’re unhappy. It doesn’t take a genius to figure it out. I guess your perfect fiancé and your perfect little life aren’t quite lining up how you thought they would, huh? You’re stuck with a bunch of shit you don’t want.”  
  
Her mouth moves without words. Vanitas has her pinned to the spot.  
  
And that scowl of his… “I’ve listened to you complain all this time. I know the story better than you do by now. You’re _lonely_. Why do you need someone else to tell you this?”  
  
“I—” Her eyes hurt. They’re watering. Vanitas is watching her with a face she can’t read. “I just…”  
  
“Get mad already.”  
  
Getting angry would only ruin everything.  
  
“You’re clearly not the only one half-assing it. So just do what you want. To hell with everyone else.”  
  
What good would that do?  
  
“Do you need someone else to tell you what you want, too?”  
  
“I don’t,” she sniffs. Vanitas huffs like he doesn’t believe her.  
  
“So you’re okay with being ignored?”  
  
“Sora doesn’t _ignore_ me—”  
  
“You’re just playing house while he runs off with his friends… Or is it friend? Huh… Ya know, I have some theories about that fiancé of yours—”  
  
Then she’s on her feet and hitting his arm. “ _Don’t_.”  
  
“Oh,” he grins. “So she can get mad, after all.”  
  
Kairi rubs at her eyes and her hands come back smeared with black mascara. “You’re a real jerk, you know that.”  
  
“I am well aware,” he shrugs. She can’t help but snort. At least he’s honest. Vanitas rests his chin in his hand, still grinning like a villain. “You look like a raccoon.”  
  
Kairi sighs into her blackened hands. “Why do I put up with you?”  
  
“Must be my devilish good looks.”  
  
She immediately shoves him, hoping to at least get some makeup on his shirt. Like black on black would matter at all. “Shut up!”  
  
Vanitas only cackles. He’s a devil, after all.  
  
But Kairi can’t shake the pain in her chest. Not even Vanitas’s teasing smile can soothe it. She bites down on her lip, mind swimming with useless rebuttals. She can’t counter anything Vanitas said. He’s seen straight through all her lies and down into her core. “So what if I’m lonely?” she says, and Vanitas’s smile drops. “That’s no reason to… uproot everything.”  
  
“Says who?”  
  
“For something so silly… It would be selfish of me to disappoint everyone like that.”  
  
He runs a hand down his face. “You’re an idiot. You’re just afraid.”  
  
Her jaw tightens. No rebuttal. “Maybe I am.”  
  
“You’ve spent so long sinking you’ve forgotten how to swim.”  
  
Kairi buries her head in her arms. She’ll be letting everyone down. Her friends who always rooted for her. Her grandmother who painted such a rosy future of Kairi’s perfect life in a perfect house. And Sora. It would break his heart, wouldn’t it? He’s just as deep in this as she is, isn’t he?  
  
Maybe it wouldn’t. At the end of it all, does he even love her? Empty words and cold kisses don’t amount to love, do they?  
  
Her shoulders shake with sobs, but she bites down on them. She won’t cry. _She won’t._  
  
Empty words… Pretty makeup and pink nails and flowers and lace. It’s all the same. Everything she thought he wanted in her. Pristine and powdery and unreal. Kairi can’t be that for him, and she’s already given up on trying. She gave up on the Sora who sits across from her at the dinner table. She wanted the boy who smiled next to her on the pier. Kairi hasn’t felt that rush for a long time. Sora hasn’t been that boy for even longer.  
  
She’s known it all along, but she won’t cry. She doesn’t love him. That’s not something to cry about.  
  
“What are you gonna do about it?” Vanitas’s voice suddenly cuts through.  
  
Kairi sniffs and looks up at him. She still can’t read that expression. As much as Sora is an open book of things she doesn’t want to see, Vanitas is an enigma. Is he frustrated? Disgusted? Delighted? Kairi has no idea. She’d like to. Vanitas never does anything he doesn’t mean. She can’t imagine being so ruthlessly and effortlessly herself. To follow her heart with no inhibitions. Her stomach aches at the thought. This is real jealousy, isn’t it?  
  
Vanitas quirks an eyebrow at her. He’s expecting an answer.  
  
Kairi will have to find that rush again. Wherever she left it. But for now: “I’ll do what I want,” she mumbles.  
  
“Oh, yeah?”  
  
“Yeah. I’ll try.” She rubs more black tears from her eyes. She hopes whatever is left of her eye makeup isn’t smeared too badly.  
  
Vanitas is frowning. “Now your lipstick is screwed up. It’s all in your teeth.”  
  
Kairi swears and presses her lips together. She tries to redistribute what’s left to cover it up. “Better?”  
  
“Not even close,” he snorts, and reaches over. His calloused thumb presses just below her lip and swipes. She doesn’t move. Vanitas clicks his tongue. “It’s stubborn.”  
  
She rubs at the spot with her own hand, leaving a wine-red smear across the back of her thumb. “Yeah… that’s usually a good thing.”

–

Kairi sits across the table from Sora and she wants to run away. She can’t do this anymore. She can’t keep sitting there while Sora looks at her as if nothing is wrong. Not when her heart is no longer in it. It’s eating her alive, and prolonging it is too cruel.  
  
She pushes her half-finished sandwich away. Her stomach is burning with too much anxiety to even think about eating.  
  
“Not hungry?” Sora asks with his mouth full, and Kairi’s stomach turns again.  
  
She shakes her head. It didn’t used to be like this. They weren’t always marionettes. Just actors playing themselves on a stage… She grits her teeth and sucks in a breath and she’s going to be sick. “Sora… are you happy?”  
  
“Huh?” He scrunches his nose as he finishes chewing. “What do you mean?”  
  
“Please, be honest with me…” Her hands curl into fists on the tabletop. It’s now or never. She has to do this. “Do you ever worry… that we’re doing something wrong?”  
  
Finally, he looks at her, his lips slightly open and his eyes so blue and sad. “Kairi…”  
  
“Is it ever hard for you to get out of bed? Do you ever feel bad for no reason? Do you sometimes wish that you were anywhere else but here?” Her voice is so small. She can’t bear to look at him anymore.  
  
Sora quietly clears his throat. His finger traces the rim of the empty plate. “Is that… how you feel?”  
  
“I feel like I can’t breathe sometimes,” she croaks. Sora’s lips press into a firm line. “Like I’ve let everyone down.”  
  
“Everyone?”  
  
“I’m sorry.”  
  
“Don’t be sorry,” Sora murmurs, and reaches across the table. He gently grasps her hand, warm and familiar. “Don’t be sorry for how you feel, Kairi.”  
  
“But I…” her throat closes over the words. “Everything is wrong and it’s all my fault. It’s… crushing me.”  
  
“It sits right on your chest, doesn’t it?” he whispers. “But you don’t know what to do about it.”  
  
Kairi glances back at him. His fingers graze the back of her hand, but his eyes stay glued to the floor. “I don’t want to disappoint everyone,” she says. “I don’t want to disappoint _you_.”  
  
His smirk is bitter. “You could never disappoint me.”  
  
“But it’s killing me and I don’t know how much more I can take.”  
  
“Kairi…”  
  
“I’m so sorry, Sora…”  
  
He tightens his grip. “Kairi… are you happy?”  
  
She reclaims her hand, grabbing fistfuls of her own hair. Maybe it would be better if she just tore it out by the roots. “No.”  
  
Sora doesn’t say anything. She can’t look at him. It’s all she can do to not burst into tears. She can’t do anything right. She’s ruined everything and disappointed everyone and _hurt Sora_ because she can’t do the simplest thing of just _being happy_. “Hey,” Sora says with more tenderness than he’s ever directed to her. “It’s okay. You don’t have to be.”  
  
“But it’s supposed to be perfect.” Her throat is _aching_. She can’t catch her breath. “ _We’re_ supposed to be perfect. Why can’t I just be happy? I have… everything I wanted.”  
  
“Are you sure?”  
  
She shakes her head again. “No… I can’t say that anymore. I don’t know what I want.”  
  
“But what you want isn’t me.”  
  
Kairi’s attention snaps back. She wants to disagree—to say _no, that’s not true_ and all her soothing words—but she can’t. The words won’t come. Not even an apology. But Sora doesn’t look upset. His eyes are soft and melancholy. Kairi’s heart is shattering within her chest. “I loved you.”  
  
“Yeah.”  
  
“I loved you so much, Sora. Please believe me.”  
  
“Kairi, I know.”  
  
“It’s not your fault. It’s all mine. I don’t know what happened.” She watches Sora shift in his seat. He looks miserable. The same kind of miserable. He should be shocked and hurt and angry, but he’s not. There are shadows curled beneath his eyes as he stares into the distance, counting the dirty dishes lined up beside the sink. The containers full of leftovers that somehow never made it into the fridge. This cold, undecorated kitchen doesn’t suit either of them, and now it’s cluttered with debris. Kairi sighs. Her chest is empty. “Why do we keep doing this?”  
  
Sora shakes his head, as if to say _‘I don’t know.’_  
  
She carefully wrings her hands together. “Can we stop?”  
  
He stays quiet for what feels like an eternity. “You want to cut our losses?”  
  
“I think… we tried our best. But we can’t— _I_ can’t—do this anymore… I can’t keep pretending like everything is okay. I can’t keep pretending that I’m happy.”  
  
“Yeah… it’s exhausting.”  
  
A single word of solidarity. That’s all it takes for the tears to flow freely down Kairi’s face. But she’s smiling. “You know what I mean?”  
  
Sora’s grin is bitter, but true. “Yeah… I think I do.”  
  
“We’re so stupid,” she giggles.  
  
He shrugs. “I think we kinda knew it all along.”  
  
“Maybe… But I had to have a couple of friends drill it into my head first.”  
  
“Heh. Same here.”  
  
Kairi wipes the tears from her face with the back of her hand. She and Sora sit quietly at the table in a cluttered, messy kitchen. Nothing but dishes and rotting fruit and fake house plants. What have they been doing for so long?  
  
“Did we just break up?” Sora asks like they’re discussing the weather; with no weight or worry in his voice at all.  
  
“… I think we did.”  
  
“I see.”  
  
They broke it in half like ripping off a bandage. Kairi would laugh if she weren’t so exhausted. “I guess none of this turned out the way we thought it would, huh?”  
  
“Not at all,” he sighs. His eyes pass over the kitchen table, at her half-eaten sandwich and a stack of junk mail and the box of anniversary chocolates that she never opened, and he frowns. “I didn’t want to let it go.”  
  
“Me, either.”  
  
“It was supposed to be us, wasn’t it, Kairi?”  
  
“I thought so, too.”  
  
“So, why…?”  
  
“I wish I knew… I really do.”  
  
“I was so sure… _everyone_ was so sure…”  
  
“I know.”  
  
Sora sighs and rubs his face with both hands. “Now what?”  
  
Kairi fiddles with the ring on her finger. She removes it entirely. It isn’t hers anymore. She takes Sora’s hand and places it safely into his palm. “Here. Save this for someone who deserves it.”  
  
“ _You_ deserve it,” he counters. “I would’ve married you if it would’ve made you happy.”  
  
She scoffs: “It wouldn’t have made either of us happy.”  
  
“I guess not… But we were willing to go through with it for each other, huh?”  
  
“We’re so hopeless…”  
  
Sora stares down at the ring, as heavy as the day he first presented it to her. His brow knits together in a way she’s never seen before. “Maybe we just wanted it to be easy.”  
  
“I didn’t want to let you down.”  
  
“I worried that I was doing something wrong.”  
  
“I was scared that it was because I didn’t love you enough.”  
  
He chuckles softly. “I thought the same thing.”  
  
Kairi drops her face in her hands. “We really are stupid, aren't we?”  
  
She hears Sora hum, like he’s really thinking about it. Like he’s searching for the perfect rebuttal. “Yeah, we’re stupid.”  
  
Kairi can’t help it. She bursts out laughing. Sora laughs alongside her. They’re on the same page; for the first time in forever.

-

She’d forgotten how it felt to actually _like_ the words she left on the page. For a while now, every time Kairi would try to sit down and write anything outside of work—which is nothing but non-fiction articles and fluff pieces, if she’s being honest—she would end up either staring at a blank page or the single worst paragraph she’d ever seen in her life. A new perspective can do wonders. A completely different head-space. Her pen glides across the notebook in steady, swirling strokes. She’s finished a full page already, just sitting in the booth of the cafe, and her latte hasn’t even arrived yet.

The atmosphere doesn’t hurt. This cafe is tucked away downtown, with a cluttered, classic style that is just how she likes it. The trees lining the streets are just outside the window, rustling from the strong spring breeze. The weather is always unpredictable this time of year. She should’ve brought an umbrella, just in case.

The door chime sounds, and Kairi halts in the middle of her sentence. She glances up in time to catch Vanitas walking in. Perfect timing. She shuts the notebook and calls him over.

He slides into the seat across from her with a suspicious gleam in his eye. It only worsens when an employee steps alongside him and sits two cups onto the table: Kairi’s latte and a mug of black coffee.

Kairi thanks the employee with a smile.

Vanitas is still giving her that look. “You said Xion and Naminé wanted to meet up.”

“I lied,” she shrugs, earning the full force of his glare. “You wouldn’t have come if it was just me.”

“Yeah, and? That sounds like you have an ulterior motive.”

“And what if I do? Just shut up and let me appreciate you,” she orders with no bite at all. “It’s my treat since you helped me out.”

He crinkles his nose. “When did I help you?”

“Last month.”

Then he laughs through his nose. “Don’t remember,” even though he clearly does.  
  
“If you say so.” She lifts the latte to her lips and gently blows to cool it off.

He doesn’t seem satisfied with that response. He must be annoyed that she’s not fighting back, but Kairi has nothing to fight about anymore. He props his arms on the table, and for once she doesn’t squirm beneath that stare. “What’s with you?”  
  
“Hm?”  
  
“You seem pleased about something.”  
  
And _he_ seems awfully interested about it. She takes a sip of her drink with a giggle. Strawberry lip balm leaves a faint smudge along the rim of the mug. “Is it so suspicious that you’re willing to stay and ask me?”  
  
“Obviously,” he snorts, and snatches up his own mug. Looks like she was right—he does drink it black. “You’re usually a dreary mess. What gives? Something exciting happen?”  
  
“You could say that.”  
  
He rolls his eyes. “You’re fantastic conversation, as always.”  
  
“And _you’re_ as cuddly as sandpaper,” she jabs. He only stares at her from behind his coffee. The cafe door chimes as someone else walks in. Outside, another strong gust of wind blows through the trees, bringing a sheet of clouds along with it. It might start raining soon, but Kairi doesn’t care. Her finger absently traces the rim of the coffee cup. “Say, Vanitas… do you like champagne?”

**Author's Note:**

> I want to make it clear that I have no problems with sokai as a ship. (In fact, one of my favorite fics in the entire KH fandom is sokai!) This is nothing but my messy feelings on how the two are presented in canon. It's like a trope. A relationship based on mere circumstances. And I love messy relationships.
> 
> Vanitas is also my favorite catalyst, so.... He was a punk; she did ballet. What more can I say?
> 
> I'm also so, so tired of fighting with this piece. [throws it to the wolves]
> 
> [-pluto](https://twitter.com/VaniVeniVici)


End file.
